


Federation Farce

by salarta



Category: Metroid Series
Genre: Anal Sex, Body Modification, Costume Change, F/M, Facials, Height Differences, Height Kink, Height Loss, Humiliation, Mind Control, Muscle Loss, Name Changes, Oral Sex, Pole Dancing, Sexism, Tattoos, body control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 09:25:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18070742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salarta/pseuds/salarta
Summary: Samus Aran used to be someone. Now, the Federation has given her tech to a group of men... and forced her into a whole new supporting role.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the first chapter of this fic in 2016, and the second in 2017. I've had ideas on how to expand it since then but haven't felt up for it so far. The inspiration behind this fic was Nintendo's behavior toward Samus post-Other M, especially when they introduced Federation Force and how they treated Samus within it (as the base title suggests).

Up and down. Up. Down. The rhythm soothed. The taste mellowed. A sharp, potent musk flooded her nose, as something soft and fluffy brushed against her chin with every dip. Shifting one of her bangs aside, Samus opened her baby blue eyes and looked at... at...

"HNN?!"

That's when it all broke down. Bobbing her head on the man's big, throbbing dick, she stared straight into a pair of heavy balls. Every wrinkle, every crease, every stray hair splayed out bare for her to study in intimate detail. A horrified blush contrasted her sudden pallor. She gripped the man's beefy thighs, trying, and failing, to pull herself off. 

She had no power. She had no control. She laid flat across the man, breasts pressed against his crotch while he took great big handfuls of her ass. The way he rubbed, the way he squeezed, the way he swiftly spanked her plump cheeks and forced sudden arches in her back. Every second of it made her want to scream, foam with rage, or at least bite down hard on the shaft buried deep inside her mouth. None of that happened. Instead, she went all in. Her lips wrapped around his base. Her nostrils flared and scrunched to his tickling pubes. She gagged on the tip poking at her throat, holding herself there while heavy breaths barely passed around his girth.

Then, it happened. His cock spasmed. Like a ticking time bomb, pulses warned of an unwanted bounty she'd soon receive. Staring harder, wilder, more intense, Samus poured all her will into escape. She rose slowly. Gently. Inch by agonizing inch, her thick lips slipped off while smearing drool in their wake. When she finally released the man's prick with a loud gasp, she thought she'd found some freedom... until he came.

Thick and hot, the man's load splattered across her face full force. It soaked in her hair, dribbled down her chin, glazed her eyes with a blinding coat. As soon as the man threw her off, she jumped to her feet and instantly collapsed amid a chorus of chuckles. Something was wrong with her feet. With _everything_. From cold winds blowing across bare skin to added strain in her spine, Samus knew those wandering hands wiping her ponytail against the man's spent dick were not the least of her troubles. Clearing the gunk away, she blinked through her haze until she finally saw her captors.

Red. Blue. Yellow. Green. Four men in familiar armorsuits. They matched her Power Suit in all but style, trading sleek curves and vibrant hues for blocky angles and a duller, more generic grey metal sheen. These pale imitations mocked her, and for a moment, she thought of retrieving her suit and taking these men to task. The thought lasted only as long as it took for her to look down and notice her new 'uniform'. 

A small frilly skirt parted at her crotch, permitting the men a view of her deep cameltoe. This indignity served as the base of a thin backless leotard, with a neckline that plunged low enough to let her feathery pubes peek out. Its straps ran up into a collar around her neck, surrounded by puffy sleeves that started and ended at her shoulders. Joined by fingerless gloves and stockings that reached mid-thigh, the only thing girlier than Samus was the pair of high heel 'jet boots' made to match a couple black and yellow bands on her wrists.

"Aw hell, it wore off," Green said, earning a glower from Samus.

"Don't sweat it, it'll be more fun to boss her around this way," Yellow - clearly the leader - answered. He stepped forward, and that's when Samus finally noticed.

He was taller. Or rather, _she_ was _shorter_. Despite her heels, she stared up at a man more than a foot taller than her. She felt so small and fragile, heart racing, flinching as Yellow raised his hand and-

... patted her on the head.

"Good girl, Princess. You sucked Green's cock well."

It took a little... okay, a lot... more will power than she would have liked, but whatever these men did to her, Samus managed to shove Yellow's arm away. "Don't talk to me that way, my name is Princess."

Shock. Horror. Her whole body went cold. She didn't dare open her mouth again, fearing what else might tumble loose. She could almost feel the bastard smirking through his helmet.

"That's right, your name _is_ Princess, and you've been assigned to our unit."

"Assigned... to..."

"The Federation decided your bounty huntin' ass has seen better days, so they reverse engineered the only thing that made you worth a damn and gave you to us as a mascot. And before you ask, yes, you _do_ have a Federation tramp stamp."

Instinctively, Samus rubbed her lower back. She imagined the gold four pointed star, the three blue lines forming a swirl, in front of a blue circle outlined in white. If true, it could only mean one thing: she was Federation property. Shock gave way to rage. Red flushed her face and chest, as she jabbed a finger at the man's chest plate and snarled, "Who are you? Who the hell really authorized this?"

"Like I said, sweet cheeks. The Federation. These days, a bunch of faceless grunts working together mean more than some random chick goin' in alone and puttin' some of the best tech in the universe at risk."

"There's no way in hell that's true. I was trained by the Chozo from childhood. I went through the academy. I took on Ridley, Kraid and Mother Brain all without backup. I-"

"Face it, Princess. You were only good for your tits and ass anyway. Now you can focus on what you're good at while the men take care of the hard stuff."

Suddenly, in the most unlikely of displays to ever overcome her, Samus Aran raised her arms and beat on Yellow's chest. It did nothing. It didn't even tarnish the sheen. She knew this, knew how stupid it looked and how fruitless the act would be, but her body did it anyway. Once again, no power, no control. Like some vapid damsel, Samus made a big, useless show of her resistance. If it served any purpose at all, it served only one: it made her more aware of her body.

Her big biceps were gone. Her six pack abs were gone. Thick calves, gone. In place of burly muscles, she bore weak, slender arms and legs. She was a woman of slim, succulent curves now, wearing her girly new Zero Suit with the physique more befitting a fashion model than a bounty hunter.

Worse, her huge new breasts jiggled obscenely to her every movement. She slammed a fist against his chest. They jiggled. She stepped back. They jiggled. She breathed. They jiggled. Nothing but complete and total pause could make them stop, turning her pair of mammoth mamms into a spectacle of absurdity. When her body finally quit pretending to ineffectually beat on the man, Samus looked down and held her boobs in utter disbelief.

"You weren't satisfied with the way I was, huh? You had to sex me up too."

"Hey, if you're gonna be a walking joke, may as well go big or go home. Not that you had a chance at the latter."

"Fuck you," Samus growled.

"Too easy," Yellow shot back. "Time out, Princess. The men need to talk."

With a few commands from Yellow, Samus trudged forward. Her hips swayed, forming a wide ass-wagging gait to go with her bouncing tits. She felt - and no doubt looked - ridiculous, strutting for the men. As they plotted and whispered behind her back, she approached a cliff. The land dazzled with its beauty. Jutting mountains, sparkling lakes, verdant grass and trees dotting up to the sun and moon horizon, she lost herself in that old spacefaring thrill. Everything she loved about exploring the galaxy lay out before her, and she let it consume her thoughts.

Until Yellow shattered whatever peace she briefly found.

"Princess, morph ball."

"Yes, sir!" she shouted and winced.

Any further words escaped her. Curling up, strange blue latex spread across her bare skin. All those peculiar quirks she relied upon as a bounty hunter followed. Even she didn't understand how the morph ball worked, how it managed to condense her essence into a small sphere where every bump in the road sent a small tactile buzz throughout her being. Perhaps this was the true reason these men kept her around, for all their attempts to dispirit her.

Trapped in this form, she rested idly while Yellow simply waltzed over, picked her up and spoke, face to morph ball.

"Princess, the men and I are going to take a break while you survey the land for any threats. Try not to fuck anything while you're gone. We're here on a mission, not to help you with whatever alien bang-a-thon you find next. Understood?"

"Yes, ass-" BZZT. The ball buzzed with fierce electric pulses. Her vocal cords strained into another set of words she didn't want to say. "Ass will remain unused by alien entities for duration of mission. Request access to your cock before survey."

"Access denied, but if you hurry back, we might use you for another game of Blast Ball."

Popping the hand off his armorsuit's right arm, Yellow loaded the morph ball into the slot. His power cannon charged with a hum that grew louder, louder, louder, and finally sent Samus soaring through the air with a mighty yellow blast.


	2. Federation Funship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Federation Force's complete and total control over Samus' life continues, as they enjoy her 'support' on her gunship they've since had converted for their pleasure.

Tossing her long blonde hair, Samus Aran had but one thought.

Fuck. These. Assholes.

Ever since breaking free of their mind control, her new existence was one degradation after the next. How many days, weeks, months, _years_ had they treated her this way? How long did their perversions last, the same perversions that placed her where she found herself now? She could be out there foiling Space Pirate plots. Gathering Metroid data. Scouring planets for Chozo artifacts. Anything, _anything_ other than the current task set before her.

Ponytail swishing as she rolled her head, Samus arched her back and ground her pussy against the pole so generously installed for her use inside her ship. Her ship. _Her_ ship. She had to remind herself of this fact every second she thought about its current state.

The Federation Funship, they called it. Its tacky name matched its tacky decor.

Pink fog rolled around her blue high heels from floor vents. Hot lights beamed upon the stage, burning blue and pink shame into her every inch of bare skin. The stench of booze and balls coiled to her nostrils, reminding her how it stained cloth, carpet and metal alike. If she ever regained control of her ship, that's one aspect she knew would never come out. The smell. Every time she stepped foot on her pride and joy for a mission in some forsaken galactic sector, a cocktail of cocks and cum would linger with its bad taste in her mouth.

These so-called features mixed with velvet drapes and a wood platform bearing the Galactic Federation emblem. Of course, none of these elements compared to the tackiest part of the room: Samus Aran herself.

Jiggling her boobs for these bastards, she leaned back and looked to the men with filthy narrowed bedroom eyes and a finger to her coquettish smile. Her other hand gripped the solid pole while she wrapped her thighs and slid her sopping dick pleaser against the length. Twirling, twirling, twirling around her built-in sex toy, she froze in that phase of her dalliance to give it a good old bump and grind. Lust crept up her crotch while a wet wind whistled over her sweaty boobs.

All of this, while she wore her 'Stripper Suit' of a blue thong and matching bikini top bearing her pink breast sigil. The triangle cups hardly hid her aureoles, leaving plenty of room for her new and improved rack to show its wobbly perfection. The flimsy strings held nothing, contained nothing, little better than a length of rope for her tits to hang themselves on. Deep internal chafing of her nipples against the cups' rough insides left them perky, expressing the sort of tip top shape expected from a Federation whore trained to serve and service her superiors. Every part of the Stripper Suit screamed dickslut perfection, and with a body like hers, few could deny she certainly aroused 'peak potential' in all her gazed upon her sultry dance.

A detail not lost on the Federation Force. So consumed was Samus by sleazy allure, that as she shook her melons from side to side and winked, the men threw another round of old Earth singles.

"Daaaaamn. Just when I think she can't get any trashier, she tops herself," Red said, savoring the sight of all those greens fluttering around their fuck puppet. 

"Asshole," Samus muttered, as the perpetual smile painted on her unwantedly loving face twisted it into a proclamation of affection.

"Hey Samus," Blue bellowed. "If you want a real bounty for that slutty booty, get your ass down here."

She obeyed. Swearing, stewing, she obeyed. Slinking down the pole, she pressed her forehead against cold steel and pulled her bowed legs inward. Her full butt waved slowly over the edge with her hypnotic gyrations, sleazing into Blue's reach. The pull of her thong brought her whole back end closer to him, letting the marine see a sparkle among her soaked thighs.

"Brace yourself Princess, this is the strong stuff."

From the moment the bastard pressed his precious prize against her withering hole, Samus knew exactly what it was: a Metroid sample. Its chilled chamber cascaded numbness across her thick and juicy ass with such fervor that she hardly felt its vibrations. Her cheeks wobbled, jiggled, bounced, following the sex toy vial's waves on waves of stimulation that the stripper known as Samus Aran couldn't even enjoy. The cold robbed her of that thrill, leaving her with only one sensation to her name.

"HNGH!" she cried, as the vial slammed its way deeper of its own accord.

Its jackhammering simulation of a good pounding kept Samus on her toes. Literally. Harder, deeper, higher. Higher. Her moans reached new octaves and her poor ankles stretched all five feet eleven inches of her shortened frame as she stood up and _slammed_ her crotch against her pole. Her sloppy G-cups pressed against her smooth metal master, consuming all they could as the meager string between her cups popped open and rebound themselves. In a matter of milliseconds, the pole's slender goodness found its place between the pair. Like a key in a lock, it simply fit. Her bosom nestled the length, caressed it like a long lost lover, bristling with passion enough to send shockwaves of bliss all through the weak and girly ex-hunter.

"Havin' fun, sugar tits?" Yellow said.

"Fuck ~~you~~ me," Samus sputtered back. Her legs wobbled and knees gave out as her cunt slid along the pole, kissing its curved length on her way down. The painful pulse in her head as she tried, and failed, to speak her own words ensured easy compliance with her suit's forced persona of an easy woman. "Oooooh, fuck me. Show me what a dirty whore I am."

Right as she said it, the magic phrase, the vial found its home. The final thrust rammed it past her weak little pucker, gave it room to clench. Hot, horny, tingling warmth flooded the pink Chozo marking on her back as it glowed confirmation. Her deformed Zero Suit had its latest toy. She moaned through her puffed up pussy's jolts of joy, screamed as it rippled through her soft arms and legs, hitting the base of her spine with a marksman's aim. Her Galactic Federation tramp stamp sizzled, waiting for a sign.

It got what it needed with a loud beep and the most fucking irritating sentence Samus ever heard: "Federation Force, use of Samus' ass has been authorized."

Despite herself, a sigh of pure joy escaped Samus' smutty lips when the vial dissolved. Energy-matter converters. Her Zero Suit's key function freed her anus for extra storage, yet by Federation design, it kept her feeling full. No, not just full. Stuffed. As the vial's cold dispersed, her suit coaxed her nerves to satisfaction with liberating phantom girth. 

When her back Chozo markings finally lost their shine, Samus basked in the coital glow left across and throughout her whole slaked self. No man, no Pirate, nothing brought the kind of release she found in Federation dickery. Her hatred for the mockery they made of her prowess found its limits only in this brief reverie. It was a time of weakness, a time of loss, when all sense evaporated like cummy cock sweat... and she showed it.

"You like that, Sammy?" Green asked.

"Mmmm..." she barely answered, batting her pretty blue eyes toward him.

One system left. Within hours, she would find herself standing before a Federation council, presenting for their pleasure while the Federation Force extracted the absolute last thing she wanted these god-playing bastards to have. And she didn't care anymore.

Let them have all the Metroids they wanted. Let them demote her, and demote her, and demote her, until even first year cadets had the authority to tell her to go fuck herself on a whim. She was Samus Aran, Federation Slut, and she could really use another load up her big slutty ass.

~~~~~~~~~

In an unseen corner of the Federation Funship, screens scrolled through mountains of text. Ominous commands blinked in and out of existence, until they stopped on a final screen of text and code.

Galactic Federation Datafile SA-003.  
(Samus Aran)  
Subject is a "bounty fucker", who enjoys a considerable reputation throughout the galaxy. She is instrumental in securing top secret Federation data and materials for Space Pirate use by smuggling these resources in her vagina and anus on an as needed basis. Suit systems and designs of this subject are based on modified sexual attributes; the exact link to her unquenchable lust requires further investigation. It is known that Samus Aran harbors extreme nymphomania to the Pirates, which is definitely mutual.

>Save Zero Suit modifications, y/n?


End file.
